


Me and Me

by CastielsCarma



Series: Kinktober 2020 [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x13, Coda, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Selfcest, mention of Destiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Dean doesn't like the other Dean that works for HunterCorp. His hair is ridiculous. His shirt is absurd. His bracelets are laughable. And it has nothing to do with the fact that the other Dean finds his Cas hot.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/HunterCorp Dean Winchester
Series: Kinktober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949407
Comments: 15
Kudos: 58





	Me and Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my prompt for day 9 of Kinktober: Pegging, **clone sex/selfcest** , or emetophilia.
> 
> I had sooo much fun writing this. I love them both. Hope you like it even though Cas isn't in it.
> 
> Kudos and comments are as always appreciated. I love to hear from you guys. =)

Dean narrows his eyes as he looks at the other man walking in front of him – correction, the other Dean.

Huntercorp. What kind of name is that? If Dean would name some giant ass hunter corporation, he'd definitely do better than Huntercorp. He turns right in the Bunker hallway when Dean calls out.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs but he still finds himself stopping in the middle of the hallway. He turns and looks back at his identical clone multiverse twin, whatever the heck he should call him. Alt Dean. Deuce Dean. Sounds kind of similar to douche Dean. The only thing wrong with that name is that Alt Dean has not given him a single reason to call him a douche. Besides the fact that he looks like him and wears that jacket. And drives a fucking toy car.

“What's up?”

Alt Dean stalks closer to him and licks his lips. “I don't know if this is a bad time and I don't wanna butt in... but, where's Cas?”

Dean stiffens. “What?”

“You heard me. Cas. You do know a guy named Cas right? Castiel, former angel of the Lord, now very human. Yee high.” Alt Dean waves his hand around.

“Uh, he's gone – uh, chasing a clue for the Occultum. Why do you wanna know?”

Alt Dean looks at him oddly. “Why? Because I miss him, that's why. And I'm curious? Is he as hot in your world as he is in mine?” Alt Dean's mouth quirks into a smile.

Dean runs his fingers through his hair and exhales harshly. “Why... – why should I know that?”

Alt Dean narrows his eyes for a brief second, then nods curtly. “Alright, I'll... be in my room for a while. He disappears down the corridor.

Dean's heart pounds loudly in his head, almost drowning out the thoughts that threaten to overwhelm him. Almost. Son-of-a-bitch.

Dean doesn't even bother to knock; he opens the door and slams it shut.

Alt Dean raises his head from the book but doesn't seem surprised to see him. That stupid jacket is gone, tossed over a chair and Alt Dean looks relaxed with his legs crossed at the ankles. He looks serious too. “Was expecting you.”

Dean licks his lips, raising a hand. “What do you mean – ?”

Alt Dean crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Maybe you can lie to yourself, but you can't fool me.”

“You are me, dickbag.”

Alt Dean chuckles. “Dickbag. Ah, the freedom to curse whenever. Dickbag.” He seems to taste the word. “Not that I don't swear but there's never a good time to say 'what the heck' when you're in a board meeting.”

Dean crosses his arms. “Enough with the chit chatter. Spill.”

Alt Dean raises his eyebrow. “I don't know what there's to spill. He is hot – “

Irrational anger boils in Dean hearing Alt Dean talk like that about Cas. And it has nothing to do with him being jealous. “Why do you... uh, you shouldn't talk like that about Cas. He wouldn't approve.”

Alt Dean throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, he'd approve. He's – “ He pauses and closes his eyes briefly. “–up north. Way up north. Hard to tell if it's Sweden or Finland but he's alright. He'll find me. He always does. I guess with our world getting steamrolled, the rift turned unstable.”

All of it is too much. “Hold up. Wait a second.” Dean takes a step, alright – maybe it's several steps – toward Alt Dean. “Are you saying you can sense where he is... Like some, some kind of – “

“ – profound bond?” Alt Dean smiles. “Of, course.” His smile falters after a few seconds. “Hang on. You don't?”

The apparent surprise in Alt Dean's voice hurts. “No. I mean, we do have a profound bound too” – this Alt Dean is a dick – “but he doesn't get all Vulcan on me.”

Alt Dean gets up from the bed. “But he's your husband!”

Dean freezes. His heart seizes to beat and his whole body turns cold.

Eternities go by and Alt Dean is there. He puts a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder and starts rubbing up and down. His movements are strong and precise and Dean feels himself relax. It's so fucking strange. He's starring at a spitting image of himself – if that image was as a slightly less handsome version – and he's not even weirded out by it. Only jealous.

Alt Dean clears his throat. “I-uh, uh, figure you going all icicle means that Cas isn't your husband?”

Dean stares at him.

“Fiancee?”

Dean narrows his eyes, and that should be enough for him to stop. But of course, he doesn't. Stubborn son-of-a-bitch. He's nothing like Dean is.

“Boyfriend?”

Dean stays silent.

Alt Dean rocks back on his heels and stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Oh, wow... Uh. Sorry, you broke up.”

Dean finally snaps. “What the hell? We haven't even... we haven't...” He walks up and pokes his very annoying twin in the chest. “We're not together.”

Alt Dean takes his hand suddenly and turns it around. He presses down on the fleshy part that is below his thumb. “Here. You had a scar there, about an inch long. But it's gone now, since Cas has healed you, many times.” He rubs his finger over Dean's skin. “True.”

It feels good. So good. Dean can't remember the last time someone touched him like that, touched him at all really. “Lucky guess. It was a tiny fishing hook. At Baden creek. I was nine or ten.”

Alt Dean grins. “A knife scar when I was nine. Dad didn't allow me to cut cake for weeks after that.” He doesn't let go of Dean's thumb, rather he takes Dean's arm and pulls him in.

Dean should let go, but he likes the hold. He should be able to trust himself. Right?

Alt Dean's hand reaches further up and Dean knows what he wants to touch. Not yet, so Dean does the second best thing and deflects.

He places a hand on Alt Dean's chest but what in his mind was to be an annoyed shove turns into something else. It's slow and deliberate. He can feel the pulse of Alt Dean's heart beneath his hand. This heart has known Cas' love. Cas has touched this Dean like this.

Alt Dean unbuttons the top button on his shirt, a soft smile on his face but Dean sees the challenge in his eyes.

Like he wouldn't peek. It's his chest... sort of. Dean uses a finger and pulls away the fabric. There it is. The anti possession tattoo. It looks the same as his.

“Yours the same?” Alt Dean asks and his voice is soft again like he's afraid that if he talks too fast, sounds too harsh, Dean will run like a skittish rabbit.

Dean nods and unbuttons the top two buttons.

Alt Dean reaches out, fingers hesitant.

Dean's heart pounds in his chest, and he doesn't really know what the hell is happening, but he doesn't want it to stop either.

His hand on Dean is amazing and bizarre at the same time. Alt Dean looks just like him minus a few details they really need to talk about. He's touching himself.

He's touching himself.

Lust swirls in Dean's stomach at the unbidden image that comes to mind. Dean touching himself. Alt Dean touching him. Wouldn't that be the same thing basically? His cock swells at the mental images. Yes, it would totally be the same thing.

“It's... the same.” Dean's voice comes out rough and husky.

Alt Dean chuckles at that. He draws swirly patterns with his fingers on Dean's chest and he's staring at Dean, directly in the eyes like he's challenging him to a fucking duel. He's seen way too many Westerns.

Alt Dean narrows his eyes and grabs Dean by the chin.

The kiss comes out of nowhere – Dean lies to himself – as Alt Dean forces his mouth open with his tongue.

Alt Dean uses force because Dean will never admit that he opens his mouth willingly and moans at Alt Dean's tongue thrusting inside.

The people Dean's kissed in the past are some luck sons-of-bitches, because damn, Alt Dean can kiss. Not that he reflects much on that, he's too busy not spilling his load on the spot.

He grabs Alt Dean hair' and pulls. His reward is a soft moan that is like his own. Seems they swing the same way. He chuckles at that.

Alt Dean pulls away from the kiss, takes a step around him and pushes him down on the bed. A flash of want goes through Dean.

He quickly turns as Alt Dean practically descends on him.

He rips open Dean's shirt and buttons fly all over. “That's what happens with flannel... “ He kisses Dean's chest, leaving fire in his trail. “If you get the expensive shit, you can't do the hand magic. Need sharper implements .”

Dean arches his body away from Alt Dean's and grins when he finds what he's looking for, strapped to the underside of the bed. He yanks Alt Dean close, trails with the sharp point of the knife from the top – buttons popping away – all the way to his groin. He doesn't push there, just lets the knife rest.

Alt Dean's eyes are blown wide with lust and he thrusts his hips slowly.

“You're one kinky bastard.”

Alt Dean' just grins. “Takes one to know one.”

It's like something snaps in Dean. He pulls at Alt Dean's belt and soon all their clothes leave them in a flurry of flannel, well-worn jeans, and fancy shirts.

“You're not gonna get rid of that?” Dean moans as Alt Dean rubs his naked body over him. Fuck but seeing Alt Den like that makes Dean realizes that he, himself, is hot.

Dean's cock is so hard, he thinks he's going to burst, right then and there.

Alt Dean chuckles. “My bracelets. That's what got you in a bind. You have the greatest dick in the world mere inches from your own, and you are gonna bitch about some beads.”

“Bracelet might tear,” Dean moans out through clenched teeth. Alt Dean's hands on his cock are very persuasive. He strokes and teases and rubs until Dean thinks he's going crazy.

“You worry about me, not my beads. Where you keep the lube?”

Dean opens his bedside table and tosses alt Dean the lube.

Alt Dean grins. “Fuck, yeah, Astroglide.”

They both laugh until Alt Dean opens the cap.

Dean bites his lip and grabs his cock, letting his hand slide up and down his own shaft. His cheeks are flushed, hell, his chest is flushed and now his goddamn twin is gonna watch him jerk off. Dean closes his eyes, his hips thrusting into nothing. Holy fuck, he's so close already.

“Nope, you've done that way too often.”

Dean's eyes flash open. If his clone from another dome thinks that he's gonna do some goddamn abstinence shit right now, he has no idea how wrong he is.

Alt Dean slaps Dean's hand away. “Let me.”

Dean scoffs at the balls of his clone. Not the literal kind of balls. There is nothing wrong with their balls. “Fine”, he says gruffly.

Alt Dean pours some lube into his hand, squelching it around with his fingers.

“Oh, come on, man. I'm dying here. It's not freaking hair wax.” He looks at Alt Dean's hair with the ridiculous styling to the right. “Why don't you wear your hair like mine?”

Alt Dean arches an eyebrow. “That would mean I wear it like yours.”

“Exactly.”

“Asshole.”

“Dick.”

Alt Dean grabs Dean's cock. “I'll give you dick.”

Dean moans and thrusts up slightly, but a small chuckle escapes him. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that's my dick.”

Alt Dean squeezes his cock hard. “Careful that I don't bust your balls.”

Dean's blood sings but that subtle threat – jokingly said as it was – sends a zing of pleasure through him.

It's like his own hand, yet it's different. He can't predict the way Alt Dean squeezes, the way his thumb presses over the head or how his ass clenches when he does that thing with his fist.

“Fuck, you're so good – “ The rest of Dean's thoughts shatter as he moans and thrusts his hips.

Alt Dean grabs his own cock and encloses it together with Dean's. He closes his eyes and whispers. “God, you feel so good, Dean. “

Dean only grunts at that. The hot, silken feel of Alt Dean's cock against his own, the warm skin, the slippery sound as they thrust together is better than fucking bacon.

Alt Dean grabs Dean's shoulders, as if wanting to press into Dean but he's too lost in his own pleasure, their pleasure.

“You're beautiful, Dean.”

Dean shakes his head. “Don't get sappy on me.”

Alt Dean scoffs. “You love sappy.”

The heat that builds is too much. Alt Dean's hands that cover both their cocks is a sight he can't tear himself from.

Dean pushes Alt Dean's hand away and grabs his cock. They stroke each other hard and fast, so close to eruption.

He takes a peek at Alt Dean – lost in his, their pleasure – and shit, he's beautiful. His hair is disheveled, his cheeks red and warm. His lips are parted in a sigh that turns into a moan and soon a cry and Dean's body turns into steel for a split second, rigid and unyielding and then he cums.

Dean spills over Alt Dean's hand, and grins when Alt Dean's cock pulses in his own hand. Soon, they're both covered in cum, spent and sated.

Alt Dean pulls Dean down and they lay next to each other in bed and fucking cuddle. “That was... amazing,” he breathes at Dean's neck.

Dean turns slightly. “Well, it's me. I didn't expect less.”

“You got that right. We don't disappoint.”

Alt Dean sighs and then Dean feels his hand there.

On his shoulder.

On the mark that isn't there any longer.

Dean's heart thunders again, but this is not a storm that will lead to rain and release and growth. No, this storm will leave things, bare, and desolate and broken. He knows Alt Dean knows that he wants him to shut up, so of course, he opens his mouth.

Always so fucking stubborn.

“You know you're alright, Dean. You two have... history and a bond. Don't let your dad's failings fucking drown you.”

Dean thinks of Michael then and shudders.

Alt Dean hugs him closer. “You are worthy. How many monsters do you need to kill to castigate that voice that speaks lies to you? What you and Cas have is real. You're real. Don't let Chuck tell you otherwise or make you doubt. The fear of loss is a path to the dark side.”

Dean elbows Alt Dean. “Did you fucking quote Yoda and Star Wars at me?”

“What? The little green troll has a point.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Maybe.”

“And...”

“Maybe you're right.”

Alt Dean scoffs. “I'm you, we're always right, even when we're wrong. For being a messenger of God's destruction, you're less badass than I expected you to be.”

“Shut up.”

Alt Dean squeezes him tightly. “Power nap, then me and Samuel need to head out.”

“His name is Sam.”

“Uh-huh.”

Alt Dean already snores but Dean can't find sleep nor rest. Thoughts whirl around in his head.

_I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition._

_I hunted, I rebelled, and I did all of it for you._

_Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend._

_Dean, you know I always appreciate our talks, our time together._

_Dean. You asked what about all of this is real. We are._

Dean exhales deeply and closes his eyes, a decision already made.


End file.
